THE AMERICAN WAY
by SANDEFUR
Summary: Sequel to TRUTH AND JUSTICE. A Sky High/Joan of Arcadia crossover.
1. Chapter 1

THE AMERICAN WAY

by SANDEFUR

5/23/09 Maxville, California.

Joan Girardi, the chosen instrument of God, is on a new assignment, and as usual, she is annoyed. Just yesterday afternoon she aced her last final for her pre-law degree at Arcadia College. A four year bachelor's degree in only three years! Her only immediately plans had been next week's graduation ceremony, and the chance to gloat to her science geek brother that he wasn't the only member of the family who could finish college early.

But then God showed up—this time in the version of Old Lady God. (God appears to Joan in many different 'human' forms, but this version she knew from many years of contact.) God's mission was simple, and of course, short on details. Joan was to immediately go to Maxville, seek out Josie Stronghold and be prepared to help her with any problem she had. When Joan tried to get more info, Old Lady God walked away with her trademark backhand wave that indicated this audience with the All-Mighty was at an end.

Joan rushed to the airport and found a coach ticket in her name waiting for her on the next flight out. (Really, you'd think God could spring for first class occasionally.) Arriving last night, an exhausted Joan caught a taxi to the Camelot Motel, where she stayed the last time she was on assignment in Maxville. Sure enough, a prepaid room was arranged for her stay. (Again, would a four star hotel, just once, break the Bank of Heaven?)

The next morning, a city bus drops Joan off a couple of blocks away from the Stronghold's listed address. As she walks along enjoying the mild sunny morning, and the attractive upper middle class homes, Joan ponders how to explain her sudden appearance on the Stronghold's doorstep. Just passing through town and wanted to say 'Hi' to old friends? Except that they barely knew each other. In September of 2006, Joan attended Sky High just long enough to complete the assignment of saving the school from a malevolent ghost. In that time she met Josie Stronghold—or rather her fast flying superhero identity, Jetstream—only twice. And while they had gotten along okay (at least after that first misunderstanding when they nearly came to blows), they could hardly be called friends.

Joan pauses. Lurking across the street is a 'man' of suspicious character. Although trained in investigative work, Joan doesn't need any clues to determine that this guy is out of his normal time period. Joan's ability to discern the spiritual tells her this stranger is one of the undead—a Grim Reaper. In his hand is a yellow post-it note, and Joan knows this means a sudden death is scheduled to occur soon. The Reaper is watching one particular house, and Joan follows his gaze.

Nearby is a charming old Victorian home with a screened porch, and Joan can just make out a man drinking coffee and reading the morning newspaper. Poor guy. Little did he know he was about to experience a tragic accident. Or was he? To Joan's surprise, the Reaper checks his watch, shakes his head in disbelief, crumples the post-it and tosses it into the gutter. Looking utterly disgusted, the Grim Reaper stomps away in a foul mood. How very curious.

Joan crosses the street and retrieves the crumpled post-it, but she also notices another on the very inner rim of the storm sewer. Getting on her hands and knees, Joan stretches her arm and manages to grab the second crumpled post-it.

"Miss Girardi, is that you?"

Joan looks up and sees Jetstream—no, she must remember the secret identity bit. Josie Stronghold has caught her in the gutter with her arm in a sewer. Why were things like this always happening to her?

Joan blushes. "Uh, Mrs. Stronghold, what an odd coincidence running into you like this."

"Odder than you can imagine."

Josie reaches down, grabs Joan by the arm, and in one swift motion she pulls Joan to her feet. Although now over forty, this still beautiful woman was amazingly fit and strong. But then again, she was a superhero.

Josie continues, "I actually was about to call you to ask for your help."

Joan glances around to make certain they can't be overheard. "My help? What can I do that The Commander and Jetstream, not to mention their amazing son, can't handle?"

"Will is away for power test week—the last hurdle before he can graduate from Sky High."

"I remember my Great Aunt Olive mentioning a power test day—an obstacle course designed to test each student's particular power."

Josie nods. "Since Nurse Spex's days, the test has evolved into a week long, in-the-field challenge that is monitored and graded. By the way, how is your great-aunt?"

"Thriving as a world traveler, but she's now just that retired lady of leisure, Olive Donnelly. Although, she does manage to solve the occasional murder mystery."

"With her superhero training and x-ray vision, she would be a natural at that. Oh, and as for my husband, he's upstate leading a superhero posse for two escaped super villains. The 199 Inch Woman, and Captain Pickle."

Joan tries hard, but she can't suppress her laughter. "Cap...Captain PICKLE...?"

Josie frowns at Joan's continued guffaws. "He has the ability to convert air into any form of pickle he chooses. If you had ever seen someone die from the air in their lungs being turned into pickle relish, you wouldn't find it so funny."

Well, that sobers Joan up fast. "I'm sorry. I should have remembered what dangerous lives you superheroes face. Is...is The Commander at risk?"

"Every member of the posse will have to take their chances, they know that. Whether it be from the super strength of a woman who can triple her height, or from a sudden avalanche of gherkins, they will face the danger with courage and skill. I would be there myself, but a pressing matter required me to remain in Maxville."

"Would that have anything to do with that house across the street?" (Joan points to where the man on the porch is still sipping coffee.)

"How...how did you know?"

"It figures that the only help you could need from me would be in the, um, shall we say supernatural catagory? And, I already know something weird is going on over there."

"Amazing. Clearly, calling you would have been the right decision. Let's walk over and I'll explain."

As they head for the Victorian, Joan takes a quick glance at the two post-it notes in her hand. It takes all of Joan's willpower not to gasp at the name written on both of them. To distract herself, Joan asks...

"How do you know how to contact me? I haven't kept in touch with anyone still at Sky High."

"Easy. You're in the superhero data base."

"ME??"

By now they have reached the front yard of the house. Josie pauses under a tree, double checks that they are unobserved, and pulls a bright red PDA from her bag. She works the keypad and shows Joan the results. Joan sees her photo on the small screen and reads aloud...

"'Joan Agnes Girardi, born November 24th 1987, address 2320 Euclid Avenue, Arcadia Maryland, Known super power: ability to communicate with ghosts, Status: uncertified, active...' What does that mean? Because lots of people have called me certifiable."

Josie chuckles at the small joke. "It means you haven't completed the necessary training to be certified by the government as a recognized superhero. Legally you're not required to, but certification grants you special status with the police and the courts. You can't be charged with interferring with a police investigation, you have security clearance for all government data, you can't be sued for your superhero activities and so on."

"How convenient." (Joan continues reading...) "'Known superhero activity: May 2006, saved the city of Arcadia from a domestic terorist attack-nuclear. September 2006, saved Sky High from destruction by a super-powered ghost. Details classified by order of the Sky High board of directors...' I see Steelskin is still protecting his family's reputation."

"Can you blame him? Steelskin has been an active duty superhero longer than anyone else. Naturally he doesn't want his reputation sullied by the report of his brother Vortex's ghost attempting to destroy Sky High."

"From what I remember of Steelskin's history, he's done a fine job of sullying his own reputation."

Before Josie can respond, the porch screen door of the Victorian opens, and a mustachioed man in his forties greets them...

"Good morning, Josie. I see you went ahead with your plan to call on the sevices of Miss Girardi. May I offer you ladies some coffee?"

Josie replies, "No thank you Jonathan, and Miss Girardi arrived all on her own. Joan, do you remember Mr. Boy?"

"Uh...sure. You were the head of the sidekick department at Sky High."

"Tsk. The proper term is hero-support, and thank you for coming to our aid. Frankly, we were at a loss as to what to do. You're the only one in the data base with, uh, ghost abilities."

Jonathan escorts the two women into the lovely old house, which is very tastefully decorated. Joan looks about and immediately spots the problem.

"So, you're having problems with...a ghost?"

Josie replies, "A few years ago I would have denied it with my dying breath, but after our experience with the ghost of Vortex, and after what I've seen in this house with my own eyes... Well, I have to face the truth. This house is haunted, and if you can't help us Joan, my family faces financial ruin."

"Excuse me Mrs. Stronghold, but considering the neighborhood you live in, and how successful your family's business is..."

"Was. With the real estate market so depressed, Stronghold Realty is making less than half its' normal income. To make matters worse, Steve and I got caught up in that flipping-for-profit madness. We saw so many of our clients buying houses and selling them a short time later for large profits..."

"And this house is one you intended to flip for big bucks?"

"Yes, it's one of four we own, and we can't keep up with the mortgages if we don't manage to sell one."

Jonathan adds, "That's where I come in. I've been saving for a house of my own for years, and I fell in love with this beautiful Victorian. It will be ideal for my retirement in a few years. I moved in almost a week ago, and at first everything seemed fine. Then two days ago the place became a living nightmare. Lights go on and off by themselves, doors suddenly slam shut, items go sailing off of shelves and tables... I can't live like this."

Josie continues, "Jonathan has a thirty day escape clause in his contract with us, and I can't blame him for exercising that option. Please Miss Girardi, can you help us?"

Joan sighs. This was going to be difficult to explain. "Okay, the good news is that you don't have a ghost. The truly terrible news is that you have a graveling."

"A...graveling? What's that?" Josie asks.

"They're small, grey hideous things that you should be glad you can't see. Gravelings are a minor level demon used by the devil to cause the 'accidental' deaths of innocent people."

Josie and Jonathan chuckle at Joan's statement.

Barely concealing a smirk, Josie asks, "Really Miss Girardi, demons and the devil? Ghosts are difficult enough to believe, but do you actually expect us to swallow this?"

Joan smiles. "Remember my faux pas about Captain Pickle? You wanted me here for my expertise..."

"Yes, of course. We should respect your abilities regardless of how...odd it sounds. So what do we do about this, er, graveling?"

"Nothing. I could easily get rid of it, but an endless supply can be dispatched to take it's place, and we want to hold on to this particular one because he seems dumber than most. You see, gravelings have very little intellect, and mostly act on instinct. Instinct is telling the hideous little thing to be here to arrange a fatal accident, but that same instinct is preventing it from acting because the scheduled victim isn't here."

Josie asks, "And who is the scheduled victim?"

"All American Boy."

Jonathan raises his hand. "But I'm sitting right here. I've been in this house all week."

Joan responds, "This is the third day of your 'haunting', but gravelings normally show up on a one shot basis. This means all American Boy is being rescheduled for death daily. That's unheard of, unless there is some bizarre twist of cosmic fate going on, and an unending danger has placed All American Boy in a position of almost certain death. By the way, whoever you are, you need to maintain your disguise of Jonathan or the real All American Boy is doomed."

Josie Stronghold strikes an immediate martial arts stance. "You're saying this 'Jonathan' is a phony?"

"Relax Mrs. Stronghold, he's one of the good guys, even if I don't know his name. This is the boy with chameleon powers that I met my first day at Sky High. I'm betting this is a part of your power test week assignment?"

The eratz Jonathan sighs. "I don't know how you figured it out, but yes, I'm Tommy Tanner--soon to be known as Mr. Chameleon. That is, if I haven't failed my test. I've been holding this form all week--the longest I've ever imitated someone--and all I had to do was make it to sundown undetected for me to pass my power test. How did I slip up? In this form, even my D.N.A. matches Mr. Boy's."

"My abilities have matured since we last met. I discerned your identity spiritually rather than visually."

Josie asks, "But where is the real Jonathan?"

Tommy replies, "Beats me. I was told he would be out of town for over a week, and I was to imitate him while he was gone."

Joan comments, "Wherever he is, he's in his All American Boy guise, and he's in deadly danger. I'm sorry, but you need to brace yourself for the almost inevitable news of his demise."

A voice from seemingly thin air calls out, "We can't let that happen, Miss Girardi."

Joan moans softly as she recognizes the voice of Sky High's mad science expert, Mr. Medulla. Above Tommy's head there is a brief shmmering in the air, and then there appears a golfball-sized golden orb. Joan recognizes it as one of Medulla's spy spheres.

"This is a new feature." Joan says.

Medulla's voice comes from the sphere. "After the problems I had with spy spheres during you last visit Miss Girardi, I developed a cloaking technology that can render any object or person virtually invisible. Now then, Mr. Tanner, please maintain your disguise as long as you can. We don't want to arouse the suspicions of Miss Girardi's...graveling. Jetstream, will you and Miss Girardi please join me in my lab. I have news about our dear friend Jonathan, and we must act quickly if we are to save him."

"On our way, Medulla."

Joan turns and sees Josie has already done a quick change into her blue and white costume. Knowing what was coming next, Joan attempts a protest. "Now wait a minute..."

Too late. As Jetstream sweeps Joan up in her arms, Tommy opens the front door. In an instant they are flying at astonishing speed up into the clouds--heading for Sky High.

X X X X X

Meanwhile, half a world away, two Al-Qaida guards pause during their patrol to have a smoke. Their location is a narrow ravine in Pakistan, just across the border from Afghanistan. The two heavily armed men lean against a giant boulder and enjoy their rest. Technically they weren't suppose to smoke on duty, but patrol work was a tedious bore. Besides, it was impossible for any foe to penetrate this far into their territory. Patrols seemed such a pointless activity.

Unknown to the two men, on top of the boulder is a middle-aged hero who is on one of his rare, freelance sidekick assignments. The real Jonathan Boy ponders the problem before him. He and his partner, wearing Medulla's amazing stealth suits, have spent two days traveling deep into enemy territory. Now his superhero companion has gone on alone to rescue a hostage held in the nearby enemy fortress while he guards their escape route. Normally Jonathan would have simply let the two guards finish their cigarettes and move on, but time is short. His partner is at no risk, but the hostage could be killed if they they arrive back while the guards are still here.

There was no other choice. Quietly, Jonathan removes the stealth suit for the first time in two days. It was a marvel of technology, but much too awkward for hand-to-hand combat. Besides, it was begining to get unbearably smelly in the dratted thing. Jonathan takes a couple of deep cleansing breaths, and does a few simple stretches to prepare himself.

In the moonlight the red, white & blue figure of All American Boy stands ready for action on top of the boulder. With just a fast prayer for sucess, All American Boy leaps into battle...

TBC Please Review.

(Background info: Joan's saving of Arcaida from a nuclear bomb occurs in my story, THREE TWENTY TWO. Her saving of Sky High occurs in TRUTH AND JUSTICE. Gravelings and Grim Reapers are from the TV show Dead Like Me. Joan met the main character of that series in my crossover story, THE GATHERING.)


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

Ali Basara, age 20, was a member of Al-Qaida for over a year now. He joined for the chance to kill Americans—those godless, sinful infidels who were an affront to the will and ways of Allah. Only 50 kilometers away, across the border, their Taliban allies were killing Americans—lucky them! Ali would give anything to get his hands on one of those vile dogs…

A sudden noise causes Ali to look up just in time to see a masked man dressed in red, white & blue landing on his and his comrade's shoulders. Ali screams in pain as he hears his own collar bone snap, and he heavily slams into the rocky ground—suffering several cuts and contusions. As the gaudy American (who else could it be) pounds his comrade into unconsciousness, Ali desperately crawls to where his AK-47 landed four meters away. At the moment his hand grasps the stock of the rifle, Ali looks back and sees his enemy remove a small black sphere from a compartment on his belt. With a speed that defies description, the sphere is hard thrown before Ali can reach the trigger…

All American Boy pauses to catch his breath. It was good to know that his fighting skills were still sharp, but this heavy breathing afterwards was new since his last time in action. There was no denying it, he was getting too old for this line of work. Perhaps this should be his last sidekick assignment.

As All American Boy securely ties up the two unconscious men, he gives more thought to the idea of retirement. This wasn't a bad assignment to go out on. Seven days ago a U.S. cargo plane was shot down near the border. The Taliban were the first ones to the crash site, and they executed all of the survivors except one—army Brigadier General Alistair Stickler. A tracking device in the heel of the general's boot allowed the military to track the captured general until he entered the inappropriately named Kalvir Valley. The 'valley' was actually a narrow, wildly twisting ravine with sides that rose a mile high on either side with massive overhangs that shaded nearly every step of the way.

General Stickler's tracking beacon was lost the moment he was transported into the valley. Not only did the stone formations block most electronic signals, but a high magnetic ore content interfered miserably with all radio signals. The Kalvir Valley was immune to aerial assaults, and an army couldn't force their way through—for many had tried, going all the way back to Alexander the Great.

After considering every military option, the government turned to its' frequent choice for clandestine missions—Steelskin. In turn, the famed superhero requested the hero-support talents of All American Boy (mostly due to his unique super power). It was considered quite an honor to serve with Steelskin, who had been a major league hero for decades. Although now 72, under his black mask Steelskin remained an unchanging youth of twenty. His invulnerability not only protected him from all harm, it also kept him from aging. Some speculated that Steelskin might even be immortal.

All American Boy tidies up the area by hiding the knocked-out guards far from the trail, and then recovering his equipment from the top of the boulder—especially the stealth suit. All mad science equipment contained a self-destruct mechanism that activated when the user and device were seperated for an hour. If terrorists should ever get their hands on one of Medulla's high tech devices… All American Boy, with one of the AK-47's in hand, takes up his post and continues to guard the trail.

X X X X X

A mile above the city of Maxville, hidden behind an artifical cloud formation, Sky High floats along due to the latest in anti-grav technology. Next to the mad science lab, in his private office, Mr. Medulla glares at Joan Girardi, and she returns the look with equal disfavor. The two had grated on each other from the first moment they met back in '06, and time hasn't changed their oil and water nature. For Medulla it wasn't anything personal. He readily conceded that Joan is an attractive, pleasant young woman who seemed to do a lot of good in the world. No, his grudge against Joan is the frustrasting conundrum she presented. Within his massive bald head was the world's greatest mind, one that specialized in everything related to super powers. No one knew more about the subject than he, and yet, nearly three years after meeting Joan, he still didn't understand this power of Spiritual Discernment--not how it worked, or how the annoying girl had acquired it. Even more frustrating, her power seemed to have evolved to a higher level since their last meeting.

"Let me get this straight, Miss Girardi..."

Joan winces at the sound of Medulla's voice. It has a high-pitched nasal quality--not of cartoonish levels--but still just enough that it always irritated her. Joan's original opinion of Medulla was that he personified arrogance. 'Annoying Jerk' is her most common way of referring to the famed mad science expert. But why did he disturb her so much? The world was full of annoying jerks.

Medulla continues, "You say these beings, 'Grim Reapers', steal people's souls, but they aren't villains?"

Joan sighs. For the world's smartest man, Medulla could be amazingly slow on the up-take. She explains again...

"Reapers don't steal souls, they rescue them. When a person is about to suffer a sudden violent death, a Reaper will, if he can get to the victim in time, remove the soul first so the person doesn't have to experience the trauma of their demise. If they can't get to the victim in time, then they release the soul from the corpse so that it can go on to its' final destination."

"And you say these Reapers are themselves dead?"

"Undead. They died but were incarnated in new forms--at least to the rest of the world. Amongst themselves they still appear as they did when they were alive. Look, is any of this important? You have the proof before you."

Medulla picks up the two smoothed out post-it notes and smiles. "These are hardly a Q.E.D. of what you are saying. Both read: A.A. Boy, with his new address and two different times, 4:56 p.m. and 8:48 a.m. Why the difference?"

"Each is a scheduled time for Mr. Boy's death by accident. There's probably a third post-it somewhere in the sewer with another time stamped on it. Those post-its are the way a Reaper gets his assignment from his supervisor. The only reason Mr. Boy isn't already dead is because Tommy was imitating him at the same time as Mr. Boy's hiding in the stealth suit you told us about. That caused enough confusion to keep him alive, but if Tommy drops his disguise, or all American Boy steps out of that suit, then within 24 hours, he will die."

Jetstream says, "Unless we save him."

Joan shakes her head. "It's not that simple. There are spiritual rules involved, and dire consequences if you break them. I'm not sure why Mr. Boy has been repeatedly scheduled to die, but preventing it has many risks. First, there will be a scheduled time and place for his 'accidental' death--duly arranged by a graveling. We have no way of knowing when or where that is, and any action on our part could simply ensure Mr. Boy's making it to that appointment. It's sort of a destiny thing."

Jetstream asks, "But doesn't the Reaper know? Why can't they help if they're not villains?"

"Because they understand the rules. If Mr. Boy fairly makes it to his appointment, even if you prevent the death of his physical body, his soul will still die within him. Jonathan Boy's body will live out its' natural life span, but his soul will slowly rot during those years. He will be a mere shell of his former self--an emotionless, joyless thing that will inevitably go mad. No one should have to endure that."

Jetstream turns her head away and shudders. Softly she responds, "I know you're trying to help Joan, but at this moment, I wish I had never met you."

"I...understand. I'm sorry to bring you such bad news."

Medulla says, "Wait, you said if Jonathan makes it to his appointed time and place. What if we can prevent that?"

"Then Jonathan Boy, body and soul, will go on with the rest of his normal life the same as if none of this had happened."

Jetstream and Medulla smile with relief.

Medulla says, "Why didn't you say so? That will be our goal. Somehow, we will achieve this."

"Except..."

Medulla groans.

Joan starts again. "Except, there are consequences when you interfere with fate, and there's no way to know what that spin of the wheel of fortune may bring."

Jetstream asks, "How bad could it be in comparison to saving Jonathan's life?"

Joan shrugs. "There's no way to know how mild or extreme those consequences may be. It's like throwing a rock into a pond--the ripples, good and bad, go where they may, and affect an unknown number of lives. An example: a Reaper I know, a girl named George, when she was new at her job tried to prevent a scheduled death. A corporate executive was scheduled to meet with his R & D guys, and on the way back to his office, he was suppose to have a fatal accident. George kept the guy busy with some cock and bull story until the executive completely missed the meeting. The executive lived, but because of that missed meeting, a highly defective product was shipped to the stores, and nearly a hundred people died. Needless to say, George learned her lesson after that."

Medulla asks, "Miss Girardi, are you asking us to simply let Jonathan die?"

"No. I realize it's not in the nature of superheroes to just stand by and do nothing. In a way, you people defy fate all the time. I just wanted you to fully understand the risks involved."

Medulla nods. "Very well then, let us proceed quickly, but with all due caution. Jonathan has accompanied Steelskin on a mission to rescue a captured army general held in the Kalvir Valley, just across the Pakistan border. The Kalvir Valley is the ultimate communications dead zone. Not even our high-tech equipment can get signals in and out of there."

Jetstream remarks, "That explains why Jonathan was chosen as Steelskin's sidekick."

Joan asks, "What does that mean?"

"Jonathan's superpower is a type of...radio telepathy. He can mentally interface with any time of communication equipment--cell phones, radios, fax machines, computers, etcetera--and send messages."

"Only send?"

"Yes, it's one way only. It's how All American Boy once saved The Commander's life. Steve and Jonathan were captured by a super villain named Royal Pain, but Steve was too stubborn and proud to ask anyone for help. Fortunately, Jonathan ignored The Commander's instruction not to call for help, and sent an S.O.S. to the mayor, who in turn called on me as the closest available superhero. After I helped Steve escape, and Royal Pain was...dealt with, The Commander and I began our life journey as a couple..."

Medulla adds, "Getting back to the mission, if they manage to rescue the general with his head still attached, they will need a fast exit from the valley. Helicopters can't make it into the valley due to the narrow twisting rock formations, and the dangerous winds. However, the military has a system where an individual wears a harness with an immensely long cable attached. A balloon raises the cable high into the air and a specially equipped plane snatches the cables, lifts the man off the ground and reels him into the plane. Since the enemy has a large supply of surface to air missles available, only one attempt can be risked."

Joan comments, "And it's All American Boy's job to inform the Air Force of the right moment for the attempt. It sounds daring and dangerous. In fact, it sounds like you would have been a better choice for Steelskin's partner, Jetstream."

Jetstream bitterly replies, "I'd be the last person that man would ask for help."

"Whoa, sounds like I hit a nerve."

Jetstream heavily sighs. "Joan, this is strictly off the record. what the public doesn't know is that the superhero community has been as bitterly divided over the war as the nation. By international agreements, superheroes are forbidden to take part in foreign wars. Every nation has some super powered people, and the spectre of such beings joining into modern warfare was too ghastly for even the most radical nations to contemplate. Once the Bush administration began invading countries, most American and Allied superheroes agreed we had to follow international law and have kept a hands-off approach. I was a leader amongst those pushing for the traditional respect for the rule of law."

"But Steelskin disagreed?"

"Vehemently. He and a small cadre of like-minded superheroes have been actively participating in the war--although, most of the time they do it in a clandestine manner."

"How can they get away with breaking the law?"

"There are exceptions written into the international agreements. A superhero may defend his nation from spies, saboteurs and assasins. They may also track down wanted war criminals, traitors and crooks like black market operators, kidnappers and so on."

"If that's what Steelskin has been doing, then he has my salute."

"That's how it started, but he and his followers have declared all enemy combatants criminals, and they are routinely breaking the established laws governing warfare. They have violated the neutrality of peacful nations, they have kidnapped countless people and have thrown them into secret prisons without due process of law, and there have been continuing reports of routine torture and assasination."

Joan gulps. "Assasination? But isn't the number one rule for superheroes to never deliberately kill anyone?"

"Yes, but Steelskin has been bending that rule for decades. Usually by claiming an accidental death during a super powered battle... Which does happen. Even The Commander had a death on his record until we learned the villain we thought had been obliterated was still alive."

"Okay, I get that, but deliberate murder is a whole other story. How can the government allow Steelskin and friends to get away with this?"

Medulla snorts derisively. "Allow? They did more than that. For the last eight years the government has been encouraging and even directing Steelskin's activities. Although, now that the new administration has taken over, the atmosphere has changed. Steelskin and comrades have had to cut back their operations to practically nothing. This rescue has been the only officially sanctioned mission since the new President took office."

Jetstream adds, "And now we have to join in that mission if we are to save Jonathan and minimize the resulting...um, bad ripples? Medulla, we will need two new stealth suits. Joan and I are leaving at once for the Kalvir valley."

Joan briefly looks heavenward and suppresses an urge to groan.

TBC Please review.

(Information about gravelings and Reapers comes directly from the show, Dead Like Me.)


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE

Something was wrong. All American Boy checks his watch again. Steelskin should have been back hours ago. The ancient fortress carved into the rock wall at the end of the valley just isn't that big. Using his stealth suit, Steelskin should have easily entered and searched the enemy's base for the General and been back by now. Perhaps he should re-enter his stealth suit and go check on Steelskin? Perhaps. He would give it another half hour before deciding. There is no telling what his new partner is up to. Steelskin has become so erratic in the last few years. The more he openly flouted the rules, the more he insisted all others strictly toe the line. A sidekick who defies his hero's instructions in a combat situation can expect a harsh rebuke (and probably a few bruises too).

All American Boy dutifully checks the area again with a nightscope. Nothing. He is alone and well hidden in the shadows. No one can possibly see him, and yet, he knows he is being watched. There is no sight or sound to give him this impression, but every instinct tells him it is so… A noise. It is faint but definite. Another quick check with the nightscope reveals Steelskin, in the distance, approaching at a rather slow pace. Dressed all in black, the invulnerable hero normally runs at top speed since, due to his power, he never tires. All American Boy then notices his new partner is dragging an unconscious man by his ankles. It must be a prisoner as it is obvious something heavy is slung over Steelskin's shoulder. It must be the General inside the stealth suit. All American Boy steps out of the shadows and gives a nod of greeting.

Steelskin asks, "Anything to report?"

"I had to take out a couple of patrolling guards because I thought you would be back sooner. It won't be long before they are missed."

Steelskin shrugs. "It couldn't be helped. The General needed a lot of first-aid. The bastards worked him over pretty good. Plus, we got a little bonus. Meet Zahir Mustafa, the number five man in Al-Qaida. The intelligence boys will love getting their hands on this murdering monster."

All American Boy examines the man on the ground, who is moaning slightly as he struggles to regain consciousness. "Are you sure? I'm familiar with the intelligence photos of the top Al-Qaida men, and this guy only vaguely resembles Zahir."

"You have to account for the blood and the bruising. Trust me, before I worked him over, he was dead ringer for Zahir. Of course he denied it. Claimed he was just a local trader who was selling tobacco, fresh fruit and candy to the families living in the fortress."

"There are families up there?"

"Yes, some of the senior men are apparently allowed to house their wives and children." Steelskin replies in a distracted way as he deactivates the stealth suit and examines the General.

"How is he?"

"Weak. I have doubts he can survive the snatch by the Air Force plane, but we have no choice. Better start setting up the equipment, and be prepared to send the alert message to the flyboys."

All American Boy nods and turns to comply when he notices something is wrong… "Steelskin, one of your ray guns is missing!"

The man in black automatically reaches for his left holster and finds that weapon is still there. He checks the right holster and confirms that one is missing.

"My vibra ray. Damn, it is gone!"

"This is horrible. A weapon of that much power—if it falls into the hands of the enemy…"

"Relax All American Boy, like all mad science devices, it has a self-destruct timer. Considering how long I've been gone, I must have dropped it either in the fortress or on the way back."

"In the fortress? But the women and children!"

"No worries. I didn't go anywhere near the private living quarters. Although, I did have to search a large portion of the fortress before I found the General. Besides, the explosive charge on the ray gun is relatively small. The only place it could do any real harm would be if I had the bad luck to drop my weapon while I was in the arsenal…"

Suddenly, a massive explosion fills the air and rocks the ground like an earthquake. Horrified, All American Boy turns to see an enormous fireball rising from where the center of the fortress use to be. A series of smaller explosions continue to do more damage to the ancient stone structure until all that is left crumbles into rubble and dust. No one could have survived.

Steelskin dryly remarks, "Well, would you look at that. What are the odds such a tragic thing could happen to such a 'nice' group of people?"

All American Boy stares hard at the man who had been a hero of his since he was a little boy. The barely controlled smirk on Steelskin's face tells him all he needs to know.

"My God, all the rumors, all the horrible things people whisper about you are true."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean. This was simply a tragic accident. Besides, are you really all that broken up over the deaths of some lousy terrorists?"

"And the women and childeren?"

"Regretable collateral damage. Look at it this way--the women were being increasingly used as suicide bombers, and the children begin training as soldiers before they're ten. By the time they're 14, they are on the front lines. This way they died while still innocent, and maybe Allah will be merciful. Now, if you're through shedding tears over the accidental deaths of our enemies, we still have a job to do."

Wordlessly, All American Boy walks away and begins setting up the equipment for the snatch by the Air Force plane. There is nothing left to say. Both men know how this scenario will work out. When they got home, he would file a complaint against Steelskin with the superherp commission. There would be a perfunctory investigation, and at most a mild reprimand would be placed in Steelskin's official file for carelessness. The over two hundred people who just died would be forgotten about. 'Accident' and 'collateral damage' were the only possible conclusions when placed against the word of a superhero with over fifty years of dedicated service. Yes, he had been right after all--it was time to retire.

X X X X X

Shortly before the explosion, Jetstream was rapidly approaching the Kalvir Valley with Joan Girardi in her arms. Joan tries not to be nervous, after all this particular superhero carried people around like this all the time, but Joan can't help think: Just one distraction...

The enormous blast occurs just as they are passing overhead. Instinctively, Jetstream pours on the speed--flying so high and so fast they escape almost all of the energy of the expanding fireball. Automatically covering Joan with her own body, Jetstream takes the brunt of the blast force and loses consciousness. Like slamming on the brakes, their forward momentum ceases and they begin to fall from the sky.

Desperately Joan clings to Jetstream, for she is now the superhero's only hope. Before leaving Sky High, Joan had paid a quick visit to the girl's restroom. (Her Dad's advice: 'Always pee before going' was too ingrained to ignore.) There, Joan had the disorienting experience of an encounter with Reflection God (Joan's own image in the mirror used by God to speak with her.) It was a convenient method of communication, but it always freaked Joan out.

"Joan, " said the All-Mighty in an echoy version of her own voice, "Have Medulla attach an energy chute to each stealth suit. Pretend fear is your reason."

"That won't be hard. I'm scared out of my wits! And what's an energy chute?"

But after a brief wave, Joan's relection returned to normal. Obedient as always, Joan returned to Medulla's lab and dutifully confessed her scaredy-cat status, declaring she wouldn't budge an inch unless each stealth suit had an energy chute. Jetstream tried to reassure Joan that travelling with her was safe, and Medulla's sarcastic jokes were many and cruel, but Joan stood her ground. With time of the essence, Medulla had to laughingly agree...

Falling ever faster toward the ground, Joan locates the control switch for the energy chute on Jetstream's belt. Once turned on, the device emits a parachute shaped force field. Jetstream is snatched out of Joan's hands by her sudden slowing. At once, Joan activates her own device and is also saved from the fall. Who's laughing now, Baldy? Unfortunately, the energy chutes draw their power from the stealth suits, and they are now visible. Hopefully, any would-be sniper is too distracted by those on going explosions to notice them.

On the ground, All American Boy has their equipment ready, and he has already sent out the 'Go' message to the Air Force. He asks, "We only have three harnesses--who's staying behind?"

"I am. I'll use one of the stealth suits and jog back to our lines. Good luck, All American Boy."

He sighs and nods. What could he say? That like most of the superhero community after nine-eleven, he too had doubted the never kill the enemy rule. That when the war started, he secretly admired Steelskin for his willingness to get his hands a little dirty in a good cause. But now, after seeing with his own eyes what that really meant, he was ashamed and disgusted not only with Steelskin, but also with himself.

All American Boy attaches General Stickler to the first harness and checks the tortured man's vitals. The General is pale, his breathing is shallow and his pulse is thready. Steelskin is right, he probably won't survive the trip back. Next, he attaches Zahir to the second harness. The man is awake now and too securely tied to be any trouble, but seeing his predicament, he babbles endlessly in his local dialect. A quick gag silences the annoying man.

All American Boy activates the gas cylinders that send the balloons and their attached cables high into the sky. The Air Force would be here in less than a half hour. He glances up to make sure the cables haven't snagged and gasps...

"Oh my God! Josie?"

He and Steelskin watch in amazement as an unconscious Jetstream and a somehow familiar young woman land softly. Jetstream lies motionless, but the other woman rolls on the ground a few times, muttering curses until she can deactivate the energy chute. Once free, she runs to Jetstream and turns off her device as well. The two male superheroes rapidly approach carrying first-aid kits.

Steelskin remarks, "I remember you. You're the Girardi girl. You helped my brother's ghost cross over into the light."

Joan ignores him. "All American Boy, listen to me. You have to run! Run now as far and as fast as you can. I don't know how much time you have, or how far you have to go, but it's the only chance you've got."

"Leave? Never. Not while Josie needs me."

"But the graveling is already here. You must leave now, or you will surely die!"

The two men stare at Joan as if she were insane. Ignoring Joan's continuing warnings, the rush to Jetstream's side. Steelskin administers first-aid while Jonathan hands him supplies (he seems too shocked and concerned to do anything else). Joan sighs. This wasn't going well. On the amazingly quick trip to the Kalvir Valley, she and Jetstream agreed on a simple plan. Jetstream would instantly fly her friend far away from the scene, and hopefully avoid Jonathan's assigned moment of death. As for the cosmic consequences, they would just have to risk them.

But now with Jetstream unconscious, and no one to verify her story, Joan is being ignored. Not that it matters. A graveling is already busy sabotaging one of the sky harnesses--no doubt the one meant for All American Boy. Joan examines the hideous grey creature and notes some differences in this version. For one thing, it is taller than most gravelings, and it appears to be a little bit smarter than most. With gravelings your choices of expressions were mean & scary or dumb & disinterested. However, this one is carefully watching the interaction around it and trying to evaluate with its' limited intellect how that might affect its' mission.

Even though Joan realizes it is too late, she has a risky plan to defy fate. But, she would need to know the correct time for the scheduled death. While the two men are busy, Joan retrieves an AK-47 from the ground, goes to the tied-up prisoner and points the gun directly at the man's chest. She removes his gag.

"Okay, I don't want to hear any of the usual Reaper crap about non-interference with fate. Tell me the scheduled time of death or I'll blow out your heart."

The man sweats nervously and tries to appease Joan in a language she has never heard.

"Last chance. After I shoot, I'll search for the info on your body. If I don't find the post-it, or whatever you use in this part of the world, then when you revive, I'll do it again and again. Eventually I'll run out of ammo, and then I'll let these heroes haul you off to a secret prison where you will be tortured for the next decade for information you don't know."

The man desperately pleads with Joan in his foreign tongue.

Joan continues, "What a pity you won't co-operate. I can tell you've been at this a very long time, and you've almost reached your quota of reaped souls. Your pennance is, or rather was, almost over. See you in ten years..."

"wait...please. You tell the truth? I am almost done?" the Reaper asks with a slightly British sounding accent.

"From what I can see, you only have five more souls to go. Of course, trapped in a high security prison, that number might as well be five thousand. I take it you want to move on to your final reward?"

"It is all I have dreamed of for the 90 years I have been trapped in this unchanging form. Do you promise to let me go?"

"I promise to keep you out of prison. Now, time and place?"

"Here, at 3:57 a.m."

At that moment, Steelskin join them. "Girardi, you got the prisoner to talk, and in English? How did you manage this?"

"That's not important, although I can tell you your prisoner isn't a terrorist. His kind live on the sidelines of life, trying not to draw attention to themselves."

"His kind?"

"It would take too long to explain, and we only have four minutes left in which to act. Steelskin, I'm calling in a favor. I need you to agree to do whatever I say for the next four minutes."

"Carte blanche? Why?"

"No time to say. I kept your brother out of hell, and you owe me. I'm asking you to trust me completely. Agreed?"

Steelskin shrugs. "I do owe you. Alright, I'm yours to command for the next four minutes."

"First, that pistol on your belt is a stun ray, yes?"

"Right."

"Give it to me."

Steelskin hands over the weapon.

"Next, there's an invisible creature about ten feet in front of you. It stands about four feet tall, and it is here to arrange the death of All American Boy. It has the ability to turn intangible, but currently it is in its' solid form. Attack it and beat it to a pulp."

Without hesitation, Steelskin sprints forward with astonishing speed, leaps with his arms extended and lands squarely on the startled graveling. The viscous creatures love to fight, and the grey demon savagely responds with talons, fangs and spikes. Any normal human being would be shredded into hamburger, but Steelskin ignores ther creature's attacks and pummels his unseen enemy with rapid-fire, bone crushing blows.

While this battle is going on, Joan unhooks the Reaper from the sky harness, but pauses before releasing his bonds.

"One condition, Reaper. You take this soul post-mortem. Betray me, and I'll make certain you never reap another soul."

The Reaper nods. "Fine. I still get credit either way."

Joan cuts the ropes binding him, and they walk over to where Jonathan is attending Jetstream.

"How is she?" Joan asks.

Jonathan replies, "Stunned from a minor head wound. Her vitals are good and she should quickly... Miss Girardi, the prisoner is loose!"

"Don't worry, you have my personal guarantee this man isn't a terrorist."

"Even so..."

"We could always let Steelskin decide."

All American Boy glances over to where his assigned hero is just finishing off the unseen graveling. He stares in wonderment at his partner.

"What is Steelskin doing? Shadow boxing?"

Joan notes with satisfaction that the graveling has been reduced to a pile of grey gooish snot. Too bad it wasn't that easy. A smiling Steelskin rejoins them.

"Now that was fun! The best invisible monster I've fought in a long time. How'd I do, Girardi?"

"Excellent. Unfortunately, these creatures can reconstitute themselves in a matter of moments. This time, when I give the signal, drop flat to the ground."

"You're sure getting a lot for your four minutes."

Joan watches, and true to her prediction, the graveling quickly reforms. Furious beyond description, and too stupid to avoid another beating, the monstrous thing launches itself at Steelskin.

"Now!" Joan shouts.

Steelskin flattens to the ground, and the surprised graveling goes sailing, talons extended, over the man in black. Joan fires the stun ray, striking All American Boy and rendering him instantly unconscious just before the graveling's talons pierce the hero's heart. All American Boy dies and disappears. In the same moment, Joan, Steelskin, the graveling and the Reaper all disappear too.

They re-appear in a giant cave so massive, the Grand Canyon could be fitted inside. They stand in a semi-circle of lit torches, and are facing a massive brass door that is covered with a faux pearl veneer.

Steelskin asks, "Girardi, what's going on? And where are we?"

Deeply regretting the need for this moment, Joan replies, "Gentlemen, welcome to the gates of hell."

TBC Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

PART FOUR

"Amazing. This is a courtroom?" All American Boy asks.

Joan nods, allowing her companions to take in this new development. Behind them is a row of surprisingly comfortable looking chairs for witnesses and spectators—all of them currently empty. On either side are tables, one for the prosecution and one for the defense. Before them is a judge's stand, bracketed by two large American flags that flutter in a non-existent breeze. There is no witness stand or jury box, but there is a stadium sized, big-screen TV. Two bailiffs are in attendance on opposite sides of the courtroom. They are identical red demons of the traditional view. Each is 15 feet tall with a forked tail, horns and coal black eyes. The muscular demons are naked, and each sports a huge phallus that is on fire. (Like every guy, thinks Joan).

Steelskin remarks, "This has to be some sort of illusion or mind control. Perhaps a hologram?"

Joan replies, "It's very real, and I owe you an apology, Steelskin. I wasn't sure this would be the result, but in order to save All American Boy, I had to put you at risk."

"But you didn't save him. Your plan, whatever it was, backfired and he died anyway."

Jonathan asks, "Then…I'm dead, and this is a trial to determine the fate of my soul?"

Joan shakes her head. "No, your fate was determined the first time you were scheduled to die. This trial is to determine the fate of Steelskin."

Steelskin objects, "My fate? But why me? I was only following your instructions. Why aren't you charged?"

"Because as an instrument of God, I'm immune to such charges. It's sort of like the way a certified hero can't be sued. I'm here to act as your defense attorney."

Before another word can be said, the graveling interrupts as it frantically begins running about screeching in terror and desperately trying to find a place to hide in the sparsely furnished courtroom. Eventually it falls into a kow-tow and trembles with fear.

Steelskin remarks, "I take it that's the formerly invisible little monster I fought earlier. What's got it so riled?"

The Grim Reaper responds, "Satan is coming, and all who serve the Prince of Darkness fear him. Fortunately, my status is that of a neutral party, but the rest of you should fear for your immortal souls. Hopefully, the Dark One will find a way to take yours, O' Instrument of God. You lied to me and denied me my reap. The doomed one has already arrived at his final destination, and I get no credit."

Jonathan gulps, "I'm…doomed?"

Joan replies, "Stay calm, All American Boy. I have a plan. And as for you Reaper, I told you no lies. Five more souls, I promise. After 90 years, surely you can wait that long…"

Joan's words are cut off by a howl of dismay from the graveling. The sound of approaching footsteps can be heard. The two red demons each bow down on one knee and lower their heads in homage to their approaching master. Stepping out of the darkness, wearing a very formal business suit and carrying a briefcase, is a little girl about seven years old…

Steelskin guffaws, "Okay, this has to be a joke. Are we being punked? Did Medulla arrange this?"

Joan warns, "Control yourself. This is a very serious matter, and you are at risk. You have no powers here."

"Nonsense. Nothing can neutralize my invulnerability, not even the detention room at Sky High."

"We are in a realm where normality has ceased to exist. Follow my lead, let me do the talking, and I think I can get you out of this."

Little Girl Devil arrives at her table and with an amused smile, she nods at Joan. Joan coolly returns the nod, despising the guise the Devil has adopted this time. One of the many forms God uses to communicate with Joan is a near identical child—a little girl with an odd sense of style and a happy, playful approach to life. The Devil loves nothing better than imitating God, but the eyes always give it away. Hers are lifeless, joyless pools of hate.

Joan says, "Hello Bub. I'd say it was nice to see you again, but we both know no mortal can lie in this court."

Little Girl Devil frowns. She hates the nickname 'Bub', but has yet to find a way to prevent Joan from using it. "Let's get started, shall we Joanie?"

Joan bristles but says nothing. Only her beloved grandfather was allowed to call her Joanie, and Beelzebub knows this. It was going to be a long day if they were to spend it pushing each other's buttons.

One of the bailiffs calls out in a voice that sounds like grit being scraped away from stone, "All rise for the honorable judge, Frank Jarboe."

Steelskin responds with a startled, "Me?"

Entering the court is a very fit, distinguished looking judge with thick white hair and a familiar looking face. Steelskin removes his mask and stares in amazement at the much older looking version of himself.

"How…? Why…?" is all he can manage to say.

Little Girl Devil cackles with glee. "Oh how I've been waiting for this moment when I finally got you in my court, 'hero'. This is yourself, or at least the version you would have been if you hadn't been born 'super'. This version is an army veteran, a lawyer and even a retired judge. Who better to determine in your trial if you have lived up to the high standards required of an American hero?"

Joan adds, "Our harshest judge is always ourselves, and that's why this…I guess you would call him an alternate dimension version, is here to judge you."

Judge Jarboe, in a strong but older sounding voice that is undeniably Steelskin's, says, "Court will come to order. The case before us is Fate versus the superhero, Steelskin. Ms Prosecutor, do you have an opening statement?"

Before she can respond, Steelskin steps forward. "This is insane, and I won't stand for it another minute. I don't know how this farce is being perpetrated, but it ends now! Whoever is responsible for this illusion, step forward and face me!"

Grimly, Little Girl devil mutters, "You had fair warning."

She points her hand at Steelskin and an invisible wave of energy ripples through the air. Instantly, Steelskin falls to the ground, writhing in agony and emitting one blood-chilling scream after another. Quickly, Joan steps between the Devil and her client. Steelskin's pain mercifully ends.

Little Girl Devil hisses, "You rely on your favored staus too often, Joan. Such relationships always wax and wane. One day, when you are at a low spot, you will get in my way once too often."

Joan ignores the threat, and with the help of Jonathan, she gets the now weak as a kitten superhero to a chair. He breathes hard and wipes away sweat and a few tears.

"So…that was pain. I finally understand what all the screaming is about. This…is real?"

Joan nods. "Very real. I'm so sorry."

Judge Jarboe raps his gavel. "Court will come to order! Ms Prosecutor, you have overstepped your bounds. The disciplining of this court is my responsibility, not yours."

In a buffoonish imitation of regret, Little Girl Devil slightly bows her head and sing-songs, "Sor-ree."

"Continue with your case."

"My case your Honor is a simple one. That bitch known as Fate randomly decided an American hero would die today in the Kalvir Valley. The sad little victim," (she points at All American Boy) "fairly met his appointed time and place. The defendant attempted to interfere with my duly appointed agent," (again, she points—this time at the graveling, who soils himself) "and earned his own spin on the wheel of fortune. The result? Summary judgment."

"Very clear and straight forward. Defense?"

Joan replies, "Your Honor, the defense requests an immediate dismissal of all charges as they are based on a false premise. The death of All American Boy had no random nature, for he has been rescheduled four times in four days! How can this be random chance?"

Little Girl Devil responds, "True your Honor, this does defy the odds, but there are extenuating circumstances. The victim, as you can see by his ridiculous costume, is a superhero, and such individuals expose themselves to a much higher level of risk than ordinary mortals. Plus, there was considerable confusion as to the victim's actual location. However, the biggest factor is a pattern of..." (she warmly smiles) "unrepentant sin!"

The gigantic TV switches on, and there is Jonathan holding a news magazine with Jetstream on the cover. He is enthusiastically masturbating to the image. Joan quickly looks away. God, she really didn't need that mental image floating around in her brain cells.

Little Girl Devil continues, "I have over five hundred such instances that I would be very happy to display for this court. This pathetic little man has for twenty years coveted the wife of a friend. He constantly dreams of taking her from him and, unh, unh, unh!" (She obscenely thrusts her hips with each 'unh'. It is all the more disgusting for the Devil is imitating the form of a child.)

Judge Jarboe responds, "There's no need to see more, and I again warn the Prosecutor to behave herself. Defense, I'm sure you're aware that such a pattern of sinful behavior opens this man to all sorts of unfortunate consequences."

Joan nods. It was a violation of one of the Top Ten, but Joan knows never to take the Devil's word for anything. "If we may, your Honor, let us see a fuller picture of this...er, relationship. Display first meeting."

The TV obediently shows a scene at Sky High from many years ago. An incredibly young Jonathan, and an almost unchanged Medulla are just two kids in the hall, scoping out pretty girls. A very pretty 14 year old Josie walks by, and Jonathan is clearly smitten. (On this screen, emotions can be viewed as easily as images.)

Jonathan asks, "Wow, she's beautiful. Who is that?"

Medulla replies, "Josie Demarco, a freshman in the hero class. She has the power of supersonic flight."

"I think I'm in love. I wonder if she would go on a date with me?"

"A hero date a sidekick? The odds of that happening can only be calculated by a mainframe...or by me. You don't stand a chance, my friend."

"But I'm a senior and she's a freshman. Surely that counts for something?"

"At an ordinary high school, yes. But at Sky High, the lines are drawn and can't be crossed. Science geeks like me, and sidekicks like you have no chance of defeating the social caste system of this school. Sorry, buddy."

Jonathan sadly nods his agreement, and the image freezes.

Joan calls out, "Display alternate result if Jonathan had asked Josie out."

Jonathan says, "Wait, that's possible? All my life I've wondered what would have happened."

"And now you'll know."

The screen displays a bemused Josie being asked out by a very nervous Jonathan. The kindness of her soul is as clear as her visual image. "Of course I'll go to the movies with you, Joanathan. It sounds like fun."

Joan orders, "Rapid highlights."

A montage of images fill the screen, showing more dates and a growing romance between Josie and Jonathan. The image freezes on their wedding day.

Jonathan mutters, "If I ever get the chance, I am so going to thump Medulla's head."

Little Girl Devil comments, "How sweet, and I hate sweet! But we are not here to discuss what might have been. In the prime reality, these two never fell in love, and his sin remains."

Joan counters, "Display declaration."

The TV image shifts again. A school dance at Sky High has been interrupted by an armored villain who is weilding a bizarre weapon. Jetstream flies at the villain, but is struck by a beam of energy that transforms her into a baby in mid-air. Jonathan Boy reacts swiftly, and with a spectacular leap, catches the helpless infant. They safely land, and the TV image goes to split screen. On one side Jonathan is interrupted in what he says when is also struck by the energy beam, but on the other side...

"Josie, I've always loved you!"

The image freezes, and Joan states, "Can anyone dispute the pure honesty of this statement? In every reality Jonathan's heart has, and always will, belong to Josie Demarco."

Little Girl Devil snorts her disgust, but says nothing.

Judge Jarboe comments, "I see where you are going with this Counselor, and it's true--love does cover a multitude of sin. However, to endlessly covet the wife of a friend for over twenty years is too much to ignore."

Joan sighs. She expected this ruling, but it was worth a try. She turns to All American Boy and desperately tries to supress the recent image of his...recreational activity. "Jonathan, are you a believer in God?"

"I am. I've gone to church all of my life, and I believe in God's word."

"Then you realize you have broken a commandment?"

Jonathan nods with tears in his eyes. "Yes, I know and I've felt guilty about it for years. I know I should have moved on, found someone I could love and marry, but...I love Josie."

Joan lowers her voice and looks him in the eyes. "If you truly love her, you'll let her go. Your broken heart causes her pain..."

A new image appears on the screen. In a Sky High corridor just a few years ago, Jetstream is saying a tender farewell to Jonathan. Gently, she kisses his cheek. Her emotions can clearly be seen--an intense fondness for this sweet man, and an overwhelming sadness from knowing he is wasting his life yearning for her. Jonathan is devastated by this revealation...

"Oh God, what have I done? I've been such a fool to hurt her and myself this way. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." sobbing heavily, he can't go on.

Little Girl Devil angrily shouts, "What is the meaning of this charade? You can't have a post-mortem repentance! If you could, my kingdom would be empty."

Joan smiles. One advantage the physical world has over the spiritual world is an understanding of time. In the spirit world, time has almost no meaning. "Reaper, exact scheduled time of death?"

He grudgingly replies, "Three a.m. plus 57 minutes, plus 24 seconds."

"And the actual time of death?"

"Three a.m. plus 56 minutes, plus 59 seconds."

"Oooh, 25 seconds too soon, Bub."

The TV screen shows the exact moment of All American Boy's death. The graveling's talons enterimng the hero's heart with a time stamp in the lower right hand corner, 3:56:59.

For the first time, Judge Jarboe smiles. "Ms Prosecutor, the victim has missed his appointed time due to the actions of your agent. He should not be dead, and as he has properly repented, his slate is clean. The court orders All American Boy returned to the mortal world, and no more 'accidents' shall befall him. Understood?"

Little Girl Devil folds her arms and mutters, "Hmph!"

One of the red demon bailiffs steps forward and casually crushes the graveling under his foot. There would be no reforming of the hideous creature this time.

Judge Jarboe turns to Steelskin. "As for you, young man, you are very lucky this technicality caused all charges to be dropped against you. This court was prepared to deal very harshly with you."

Steelskin nods. "And no doubt I deserved it, but just for the record, since no mortal can lie here, I really did accidently lose my ray gun in the fortress. I never would have knowingly killed those women and children."

The elder Frank Jarboe muses, "There may be hope for you yet. You've been given a second chance, kid. Don't blow it. This court stands adjorned."

The judge bangs his gavel and all goes black...

TBC Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

PART FIVE

And…they were back. (Minus the squooshed graveling.) Steelskin looks about and sees Jonathan and Jetstream frozen in place, as well as the General in the sky harness.

"What's going on, Joan?"

Before she can reply, Joan's cell phone begins playing 'When The Saints Go Marching In'. She verifies the caller I.D. says: God.

"Excuse me a moment." Joan says as she answers the call. Steelskin stares in amazement. After a few moments, Joan hangs up with a simple, "Got it."

Steelskin points at Joan's phone. "That's impossible. This valley is a total dead zone. No cell phone can work here."

"After all we've seen, that's what has you freaked out? My 'special connection' to the universe? I was simply being informed that time has been briefly frozen so we can deal with what has happened. Usually a mortal who returns from the gates of hell has amnesia of the event, but his soul retains any life lesson he learned in the process. For instance, Jonathan's relationship with Josie Stronghold will adjust to a more proper perspective."

"Will I also lose my memory when time resumes?"

"No, due to your invulnerability, your memory will remain intact. Unfortunately, All American Boy won't remember the truth about you not blowing up the fortress."

"Nor will he remember that you are an instrument of God. What a laugh on Medulla. He's been trying to find the source of your power in your D.N.A.—just like all superheroes. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone your secret."

"Thanks. I'm not actually forbidden to tell people, but the few times I have, it didn't work out well. Most just thought I was crazy and wanted to lock me up. Even the ones who believed, well, it put a strain on the relationship."

"I can imagine. And I wanted to thank you for getting me out of that trial. I guess I would have fared rather badly if I had been judged on what kind of hero I've been."

"On the contrary, I think you would have won."

"But the things I've done…"

"Except the trial wouldn't have been about deeds—no matter how much the Devil wishes it were so. You are judged by your heart. For instance, the only reason my first argument for Jonathan didn't get him off… (Oooh, I wish I had phrased that better.) The judge, being human, understood I had a better argument with the time technicality. My main reason for starting with how Jonathan felt about Josie was for his benefit. The true love he had in his heart was enough to win my case by the slimmest of margins, for love really does cover a multitude of sins, but the pain he was unknowingly causing Josie was contrary to his true nature."

"And these trials are about your true nature?"

"Exactly. And your nature, Frank Jarboe, is to be a hero."

Steelskin shakes his head. "That's just the luck of the draw. A glitch in my D.N.A. that made me invulnerable. Although, I don't feel so tough anymore."

"Good. A little humbling of the soul now and then is a karmic cleanser. But it wasn't luck or even a super power that made you a hero. The Devil left out a lot about Judge Jarboe's history. His service in the army included two tours of duty in Vietnam where he won the Congressional Medal of Honor. As a lawyer, he fought hard for civil rights, and eventually became a D.A. who put away more members of organized crime than any other man in history. As a judge, he was universally admired for his integrity and fairness. By every standard of society, that Frank Jarboe is a hero. Just like you, Steelskin."

Steelskin pauses, taking in Joan's words. "When nine-eleven happened, I was certain I had to get personally involved, no matter what the law said. I and my comrades acted in what we thought was the best interests of the country. Most of what we did was truly heroic, but…a lot of it was rather base. There were times when I questioned if we were going too far, but the memory of the towers falling would spur me on. It had to be done no matter how dirty it seemed. At least, that's what I kept telling myself. But the last couple of years, I've been having more and more doubts…"

"Frank, you don't have to justify yourself to me, and I'm not here to judge you. Do you think because I work as an instrument of God that I'm perfect? If you only knew the endless list of bone headed mistakes I've made—including the following of that path known as: The-end-justifies-the-means."

"An innocent kid like you?"

"Yeah, me. I've broken the laws of man and God in what I thought was a good cause, and for the most part, I only regret the need for my actions. But I also learned along the way that you can't stay on that path. The-end-justifies-the-means quickly leads you into the dark, and the longer you are there, the harder it is to find your way back to the light."

"I guess that's why the history books are always so harsh with those who make that choice."

Joan shrugs. "It's easy, sitting in a safe university library reading history books, to think yourself wiser and better due to 20/20 hindsight. But when you're living through it, making the vital choices, and not knowing how those choices will turn out—now that's tough. It's one of the reasons God opposes us judging each other. It's just too easy to demonize those you disagree with."

"I wonder how history will judge me?"

"With your power, you'll probably be there to read those history books. Hopefully, you and America will be judged by our true natures and not just by our deeds. In a way, you and America parallel each other in what we have been through in the last few years. After nine-eleven, we were so shocked and angry, we were willing to do anything in response--even the violating of our country's true nature."

Steelskin nods. "I remember giving a 2001 Independence Day speech in which I said the reason America has endured through so many perilous times, in the face of so many evil enemies, is because we always strive to be the good guys. That our high standards always made us fight harder than our enemies because we knew we were on the right side... I guess you think I'm a hypocrite?"

"On the contrary, I think you got it exactly right. No nation will ever be perfect, and certainly ours has made its' share of mistakes. But no matter how often or how far we stray from the straight and narrow, we always return to what is right. It's only when we try to instutionalize our errors that we become 'unrepentant sinners'. Fortunately, it is our pattern to stick with our true nature--to be the good guys. I think that's why our country has been so blessed by God, and why I'm always proud to be an American."

Steelskin smiles. "It's young people like you who give me hope for the future."

"You don't consider yourself young? We look to be about the same age."

"I might not physically age, but in my heart, I often feel very old and tired... Say, what's that Reaper guy doing?"

The Reaper has moved over to where the General is frozen in time. He and Joan exchange knowing glances.

"Time is about to start again, and the Reaper is doing his job."

"Oh. I guess I knew the General wouldn't make it. Do you know... I mean, will it turn out okay for him?"

There were times when Joan regretted having the ability to see into the souls of others. As Joan reads Stickler's soul, she shudders and tears form in her eyes.

"Oh yes, he has a great reward awaiting him... My God, he went through so much. He was tortured for days, and they did unspeakable things to that man. He was stripped of his dignity, his pride, his strength and even his courage. In the end, all he had left was his love. His love for his country, for the army, and most of all, his love for the men under his command. For their sake, he endured to the end, and gave the enemy nothing! He sacrificed all to save their lives, and...greater love..." Joan's words choke off as she weeps.

Steelskin gives the quotation. "'Greater love has no man than he would give his life for another'. Huh, it looks like the Devil got one thing right. An American hero was destined to die today in this valley."

As Joan and Steelskin watch, the Reaper touches the General's arm, there is a sparkle of light and the soul of Alistair Stickler steps away from his body. Impulsively, Joan gives a respectful salute, and Steelskin follows suit. The General notices and returns the salutes before following the Reaper down the trail. They go around a bend, there is a brillant flash of light, and it is over. Time resumes.

The three sky harnesses are suddenly snatched up into the air. One of the empty ones snaps in half about 200 feet up, but the other two are safely reeled into the rescue plane. The mortal remains of an American hero, being returned to a grateful nation to receive the honors he is so richly due.

X X X X X

5-25-09/Memorial Day.

Finally home, Joan is taking her morning shower, even though it is well past noon. In the last three days she has traveled from Maryland to California, California to Pakistan, Pakistan to Afghanistan (by a recovered Jetstream for a quick military debriefing), Afghanistan to California (for a much longer debriefing at Sky High for the superhero commission) and at last, back home to Maryland. Throw in a side trip to the gates of hell, and 'jet lag' wouldn't begin to describe how Joan felt.

Still, after a 14 hour nap and a hot shower, Joan is feeling restored. This was a rare day when the entire family was away and she has the house to herself. But instead of her usual holiday plans, Joan intends to honor the day properly. Her only family member buried locally, and a veteran, was her great-great uncle, Joe Donnelly who served in World War One. She only met Joe once under very unsual circumstances, but Joan intends to lay a wreath at his grave later today.

Just as Joan steps out of the shower, the doorbell rings. Muttering under her breath about people's timing, Joan hastily towels off and wraps a second towel around her head turban style. Adding a terry cloth robe and her fuzzy slippers, Joan hurries downstairs to the front door. A quick peek through the curtain causes Joan to groan. Medullla! Would she never be rid of the annoying man? Making sure her robe is cinched tight, Joan cautiously opens the door and gasps. Medulla's bald head has shrunk to normal size!

"Mr. Medulla, what...what happened?"

Medulla smiles. "Relax, Miss Girardi. I am as I have always been, but in visiting a provincal town like Arcadia, I thought it best to disguise my most prominent feature. I am using a minature holographic projector to accomplish this."

"A good idea. Otherwise the neighbors would be freaking out."

"Undoubtedly. May I come in?"

"Excuse my manners. Yes of course, come in."

Medulla enters and Joan closes the door. Medulla takes a quick, appreciative look at the Girardi home.

"This is a charming abode."

"Thanks. Your timing certainly is lucky. I don't know how I would have explained your visit to my family."

"Luck had nothing to do with it. I knew you would be alone." Medulla says as he pulls an electronic device from the pocket of his ordinary business suit. He reads, "Your older brother Kevin is in Los Angeles where he co-habitates with his girlfriend, one Barbara Greyson. Your parents, younger brother Luke, his wife Grace and their daughter Annie have gone to a nearby state park for a picnic and to sail the family's small boat...Joan's Folly?"

Joan sighs. This was Medulla to a 'T'. An unequalled science genius with the social skills of a child. Did the man not realize how offended she would be by this invasion of her family's privacy?

Joan mutters, "I've been trying to get them to change the name of that boat for years. Why don't we move this into the den? I feel the need for a drink."

They enter the den and Joan directs Medulla to the small leather couch--the same one still used by her parents for nights of romantic cuddling in front of the fireplace. (Eww.) Joan pours a splash of scotch into a glass. Her father taught her to appreciate a fine scotch, but Joan is always careful to limit herslf to just one drink. Being on call 24/7 for God assignments, she didn't want to report for duty half blotto.

"Can I fix you something?" Joan offers.

"I rarely indulge. Besides, it's too early in the day to start drinking."

Joan settles on the couch next to Medulla while noting his latest flaw in his social skills. Insulting your host's drinking habits while being a guest in her home? Tsk.

"Not to be rude Medulla, but what are you doing here?"

"In reviewing the testimony you and the others gave before the superhero commission, I couldn't help but notice some glaring inconsistencies with the truth."

"Oh, that. Josie, Jonathan, Frank and I all agreed that the government wasn't ready to deal with the concept of gravelings and grim reapers. So, since I'm already listed as a ghost expert, we said a ghost warned us of Jonathan being in danger, and that's why Jetstream and I rushed to the Kalvir Valley."

"I understand. You aren't the first group of heroes to withold information too bizarre to be believed. However, the government is now much more aware that you are an active, uncertified hero."

"Ever since I saved this city from a nuclear blast, the government has been aware that when it comes to special abilities, I am one of The Unusuals. Still, I wouldn't mind being removed from the superhero data base."

"But why? Most would consider that a great honor."

"It's just that I don't want the world's hundreds of heroes..."

"Thousands."

"Thousands of heroes to consider me their go-to girl every time something goes bump in the night."

"Alright, even though it has never been done before, I'll put submit your request to the Sky High board of directors."

"Cool. With Steelskin on my side, I'll probably get a favorable ruling."

"Actually, there's been a major change at the school since yesterday. After you left, Jonathan made a dreadful accusation against Steelskin in regard to the destruction of the fortress in the Kalvir Valley. And even though the commission immediately ruled in Steelskin's favor, he resigned from the board of directors and hung up his mask."

"He's quitting being a superhero?"

"He says he is taking a sabbatical for the next five or ten years. He plans to enter a monastary in order to center himself and to contemplate the nature of the universe, or some such nonsense. I suspect you had a hand in this, Miss Girardi."

Joan shrugs, not realizing the gesture is opening the top of her robe. Like any man, Medulla's gaze quickly drops as he enjoys his brief peek at 'the girls'. Realizing the situation, Joan hastily closes her robe and blushes. Well, at least it was good to know Medulla didn't do all of his thinking with his giant head.

Joan comments, "Look at it this way, ten years isn't long consdiering Steelskin's potential lifespan, and he will probably come out of the experience a better man, and thus a better hero."

"Perhaps, but when I asked Steelskin if you were responsible for his decision, he recommended I tread lightly around you as you have friends in high places. Any idea what he meant by that?"

Joan starts to shrug again, but catches her mistake. "No idea."

"Then perhaps you can explain why my scientific instruments detected a seven nanosecond disruption in the space/time continuum localized in the Kalvir Valley."

"Beats me. Maybe your space/time instrument thingee is malfunctioning?"

Medulla hotly replies, "My instrument works perfectly!"

For a joke, Joan glances at Medulla's crotch. "Good to know."

This time Medulla blushes. "That's...that's not what I meant, as you well know!"

Joan chuckles. Really, it was much too easy to yank this guy's chain. Joan realizes she likes this version of Medulla--flustered and off his game. And now that she can see him as he would be with a normal sized head, she appreciates what a handsome man he is, even though he is at least twice her age... (Oh gross, did she really just think that?)

"Uh Medulla, do me a favor and turn off the hologram."

"Alright, I suppose there's no sense in wasting energy."

Medulla deactivates a tiny device hidden behind his tie. There, Joan thinks, that will restore the normal order. Except that Joan feels a strange, intense need to touch that big bald head. Thought becomes deed as Joan brushes her fingertips over Medulla's head. He tingles with obvious pleasure.

Joan murmurs, "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. It may surprise you Miss Girardi, but many women feel an overwhelming urge to touch my head."

Yes, the experience was oddly...erotic. What was she thinking? True, it had been a long time since her last boyfriend, but Medulla? Then again, her few previous relationships were with guys her own age, and every one was a disaster. Maybe what she has needed all along is an older, wiser man with a sarcastic sense of humor and poor social skills... Unable to resist any longer, Joan leans in and kisses Medulla just below the ear.

"Miss Girardi..."

"Call me Joan."

"Joan, are you trying to seduce me?"

In response, Joan stands--tossing aside the towel covering her hair. She undoes her sash, and after a moment's nervous hesitation, she lets the robe fall to the floor. "Yes, I am. How am I doing?"

Medulla gulps as he stares transfixed at Joan's naked body. "My God, you're beautiful."

Quickly, he pulls Joan to him. Medulla begins kissing her, tenderly at first, but then with growing passion. As he caresses her breasts, Joan responds with moans of pleasure...

Transition--the economy class cabin of an airliner flying over western Maryland...

"Miss? Miss, are you okay?"

Joan emerges from her dream confused. "Huh?"

"I'm sorry to wake you, but it sounded like you were having a nightmare."

Joan realizes the grandfatherly type man in the next seat is speaking to her. She recalls the dream and shudders. "Yes, I was dreaming, and it was horrible. Thanks for waking me. Are we nearly there?"

"They just made the anouncement. we're less than ten minutes out from Arcadia."

"Thanks again."

Joan turns her head and stares out the window. Wow, what a bizarre, disturbing dream. Her and Medulla hooking up? Joan shakes her head. It must be jet lag. Imagine, her with some bald guy in his forties. Yeah, like that could ever happen... Joan sees her hometown in the distance and sighs with relief. It would be good to get home and back to her 'normal' life. Hanging out with superheroes was just way too weird.

The End. Please review.


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